#I am having thoughts and ideas but which one do I work on

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[informaturge]

1 - Keziah had a pretty good idea of which way the wind was blowing the moment Bellara popped out of the bushes with the big eyes and the magitech gauntlet and the absent-minded smart girl vibes. I imagine a silent "oh god dammit" in her head.

2- I have no idea. I am not privy to the inner workings of her mind. Keziah remains mind-boggled that it happened at all.

3 - I think that up until the whole "Rook is trapped in a ghost prison" thing there was a mutual "I like you but we don't have time for this right now" thing going on, but afterward it flipped to "on second thought we might not have time for this later".

4 - Keziah is Mourn Watch. Bellara is a Veil Jumper. They both dig up ancient hazards and put a stop to them. The only real difference is whose closet the skeletons are pouring out of. And how literal the skeletons are.

5 - I mean technically they're both elves, but Bellara is more aware and immersed in elf... stuff, whereas Keziah was basically raised to be a self-aiming gun by ghosts and gravedigger priests. I think they find each other's accumulated knowledge and experiences fascinating.

6 - Something the two of them have in common is a love of learning stuff. I think a lot of their relationship revolves around sharing hyperfixations. Does Keziah know what a manalytic converter is for? No. But Bellara does, and as such it's obviously important, so if she sees one she'll be sure to point it out. Is Bellara wary of Keziah's extensive collection of weird bones and scarification implements? I mean, a bit, but only because some of them are very delicate and others are very sharp. Doesn't mean that they don't talk for hours about the metallurgy of good knife steel.

7 - Bellara is easily flustered and Keziah isn't good at portraying emotions so I think it takes a while before they figure each other out, but once they do there's probably a lot of publoc hand-holding and sitting in laps. Anything more than that isn't really my area of expertise.

8 - I imagine they're known by name by the staff of any decent museum.

9 - I had her on my team for most of the game. And in my head their combat banter mostly revolves around their different approaches to fighting, Bel having all this elaborate mobility and tactical stuff going on with firing angles and magic arrows, in stark contrast to Kez whose entire combat strategy is abusing life-steal and burning health for mana to direct a continuous firehose necromantic laser death ray at anything in her way.

10 - I mean, Keziah shortens it to "Bel" and Rook is already a nickname, but other than that, not really.

11 - Keziah said "Huh. I think I might love you." at the dinner table during a particularly animated group conversation, but her one milky eye makes it hard to tell what she's looking at so everyone assumed she was talking to the cutlery.

12 - "Shut up I'm a genius." Spoken immediately after doing something stupid.

13 - All of my music is horrible crunchy electronic brutalism. Not nearly optimistic enough to associate with Bellara.

14 - I'm pretty sure they bring each other weird shit they find on the ground CONSTANTLY.

15 - Bellara built a god-killing knife out of magic radioactive waste to try and cut a hole in the fabric of reality and drag her love interest out of ghost prison. If nothing else, she was definitely thinking like Keziah to come up with that one.

16 - Keziah knew she'd get out eventually. Even if she had to tear a hole through the Fade's bones with her teeth. The idea that somewhere out there Bellara wasn't smiling and writing her stories was more than enough fuel to burn the place down.

17 - Keziah loves that Bellara will decide she wants to do something and just put her whole ass into it until she has it figured out. Bellara loves Keziah's seemingly unconscious habit of looking at every situation from multiple (sometimes contradictory) perspectives to make sure she knows what's actually going on.

18 - All anyone will know is that the beloved fictionalized serials of their adventures will end with a "to be continued".

Questions for your Rook and their partner:

Does your Rook fall for their partner at first sight? If not, what moment made your Rook realize they're in love with them?

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook?

How long does it take for them to officially get together? Did any of the other Lighthouse members have any suspicions beforehand?

Do your Rook and their partner share the same faction? If so, does that affect their relationship at all? If not, what is your Rook's opinion of their partner's faction? What is the partner's opinion of Rook's faction?

Do they have different cultural backgrounds (e.g. a Rook who was raised in Antiva with Harding who was raised in Ferelden)? If so, do they ever share parts of their culture with each other? If they're similar, how do they celebrate their culture together?

What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

What does their ideal date look like? Do they go on much?

Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

Do they have any nicknames for each other? Who uses terms of endearment more?

Who says "I love you" first? What is the other's reaction? Who thinks it first?

Any inside jokes?

What song(s) do you associate with them?

Does your Rook get their partner any other gifts (besides the one already in-game)? Does the partner get Rook any? Any gifts that are particularly special?

What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

What is your Rook's favorite thing about their partner? What is the partner's favorite thing about Rook?

When all is said and done, where would they like to retire together? Is marriage in the cards for them? Children? Pets?

[shiyosugi]

IMAGINE, Sae who either rarely voices his love for you or acts like he loves you. It's just out of character of him if he acts like a lovesick fool right? You never really thought about it because you two were busy with each other's business. Both of you have a busy life. However, when you got a few days of rest from work recently, all of the sudden, the shared apartment became too silent and lonely for you. This led to you overthink about your relationship and how will you manage if anything happens.

As a result, when Sae arrived home, you couldn't help but asked him; "Don't you get tired of me?" That question certainly caught him off-guard. He just finished his bath, why would you ask something like that so suddenly? He gave you a confused look, but seeing your curious expression he just gave a straight answer which was a "no". You wanted to ask more, but you felt something weird in your chest so you decided to brush it off for tonight and went to sleep.

For the next few nights of your week off, Sae noticed how you were getting... distant. At first, he didn't think much of it, but it was getting hard to ignore your sudden change of behavior. One night, he sat next to you on the bed while you were busy with your phone. He hesitated but eventually reached out to touch your hair. Feeling startled you almost slapped his hand, but he grabbed your wrist before you could do anything.

"It's just me," he spoke softly. You looked into his eyes and the weird feeling came again, which made you looked away. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You wanted to say that it was nothing and brushed it off, but for some reason, you can't lie and he knew how bad were you in lying. "Don't you want to break up with me?"

He shook his head.

"Don't you want someone better than me?"

He shook his head.

"Aren't you tired of being with someone like me?"

He shook his head.

"Do you still love me?"

He didn't give any response and that made you scared. Upon seeing your worried face, he sighed then moved you so that he could lay his head on your stomach and hugged your waist.

"Sae?" head tilted as you witnessed him doing something you didn't expect he could.

"I never said that I don't love you. I never said I'm bored of you and I never said that I'm tired of you. Where did you get that idea?" he raised an eyebrow.

"It's just... you never do or say anything to show me that you still love me. You are famous Sae. A famous soccer player with pretty face and I know damn well I am out of your league. You could have cheated-"

"Hold it there. Cheat? I would never," he frowned, holding you tighter.

"But-"

"No. I would never do that and stop thinking about that. I love you alright?" he held you even tighter as if afraid that you will disappear if he let go. "Please [F/N]*, believe me when I said I will never cheat or do anything bad that you are thinking right now," he caressed your back as he saw the small tears in your eyes.

He who thought you were as nonchalant as he was, now understood that you are as just as sensitive as he is.

[F/N]* = First name

[flowrmoth]

tumblr decided to fuck with me today and post this while unfinished 2 TIMES. like okay girl I'm working on it jeez ✋🙄 tumblr sub!ellie enjoyer #confirmed.

this was supposed to be a short blurb but as usual i got carried away cus it was too fun to write lol. sub!ellie has been plaguing my mind I'M SICK (ovulating), enjoy. also @hypnagogics thank u tvin for the idea and encouragement

warnings: smutty smut smut, bottom sub!ellie yum, praise, use of sex toy, written at like 1 am excuse any grammar mistakes

MDNI!!!

"What the fuck are those?"

A mysterious black box sits in between your red-headed friend and you, perched on top of the couch you're both currently lounging on. You've been busy these past couple of days, to say the least, after discovering a certain shop on your patrol. The lone mall you came across outside of town was surely filled to the brim with supplies, you thought as you entered, exploring different stores and rooms when something bright colorful and caught your eye.

A neon pink sign reading "Lovehoney" flickered above a shop you've never seen before; it looked half-empty, with just a few lonely mannequins posing in the window, their bodies clad in nothing but mismatched, lacy underwear. Intriguing.

You swore you would only take one, maybe two...fuck it, three. Oh, but the rainbow one is so pretty. Whatever. You honestly did not know how it happened, but that day you carried home at least 5 sex toys. They were all different sizes, shapes, colors, intended for different purposes. Obviously, you picked up a stack of batteries you found behind a counter, hidden away behind some dirty magazines (you took those too), and a harness, just in case. Okay fine, some lingerie as well.

In that box, which your dear friend Ellie was looking at and referring to, were those exact sex toys. You try not to laugh as you look at her confused face, snickering at her question.

"Els, seriously? You don't know what these are?" you ask her, holding up a purple vibrator.

"Yes, seriously. I-I mean, I have a few guesses, but..." Ellie says, pink blush evident on her cheeks, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip in curiosity.

"What are they, hm?" you tease her, finding this a little too funny.

"...sex toys of some kind?"

"Bingo! Look how many I managed to snag, and they all work!" You happily say, gesturing at the bundle in front of you. Well, what else were you supposed to do in your free time? Of course you tested out every single one.

"They all...work?" she breathed out.

Shit, did you say that out-loud? You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look away, putting the toy back into the box. "Yeah... Yeah, they work...pretty well. I mean, don't worry! They're all thoroughly washed." Seriously?

A pause ensues and you think you fucked this up. Great, Ellie's gonna think you're a fucking weirdo now. Seriously, who shows their friend their sex toys? Weirdos probably, that's who.

Just before you were about to spew an array of apologies, your eyes suddenly snap to the girls hand as she slowly picks up a pink vibrator, a big, microphone shaped thing, and examines it, curious eyes flickering over the plastic. Okay, you're good. She doesn't hate you.

"I've never even fucking seen one of these. Jesus, how does— how does it work?" the cute furrow of her brows makes you smile as her hands spin the toy around, tracing the small buttons on the side.

"You're really asking me?"

Ellie scoffs, putting her hands up in defense. "What the fuck do I know? Just...never seen one before, so..."

God, she was cute, and clueless. You've never seen her this flustered, she even refuses to make eye contact.

You scoot closer to her, positioning your hands on her shaky ones as you place her finger on the 'ON' button.

"You press this and," she presses it lightly and the toy starts to buzz, which adorably startles her, "it does that, but here you can change the intensity. See?" You move her finger down, pushing it a couple of times to show her all of the different settings.

Hot, short breaths fan the side of your face and you can see in her gaze that she's intrigued, likely curious to what it would feel like. Before you catch yourself, you blurt out, "You can borrow it, ya know?"

Another pause.

"Sorry, I—"

"No, no, that's—"

Ellie sighs, furrowing her face as she feigns nonchalance, "I was gonna say it's not— you don't have to... I mean, I don't even fucking know how to use the thing, so... Like, the fuck do you even do with it, I don't—" she stops, looking at the pink toy again, "Whatever, just, yeah." She swiftly places it back in the box and scratches her neck, red cheeks and wide eyes.

Oh.

You think for a second.

Well, a friend would explain it to her; the placement, speed and all that. But, a very good friend would offer to show her, right? That's just what good, amazing friends do. Exactly. Definitely not because you've been absolutely dying to fuck her for months now, somehow always missing the chance to make a move. This was your in.

Fuck it.

"Uh, want me to show you?"

Beads of sweat gather at the nape of your neck, while sharp breaths brush against it in quick succession. Red hair tickles your cheek and your shoulder burns hot from the girl in front of you, her weak, warm body slumped on your chest.

"Oh, fu— fuck." Ellie rasps, her moans whiny and a bit shy as she gets used to the foreign feeling on her lower half.

Your hand sneaks its way under her shirt, quick fingers finding her pink, pebbled nipples, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. In the other hand, the pink vibrator buzzes softly against the girls clothed core as you hold it in place, slowly trailing it up and down.

"Feels good?" you whisper into her ear and she nods, more eager than ever.

"Y-yeah, yeah, feels good." she's breathy and fidgety, but most of all, wet.

Wet, wet, wet. Fucking soaked. So much so, that you can hear it, even with the toy pressed up against her damp boxers, the color turning a few shades darker.

So, you press a bit harder, just to see her squirm in your hold, her tattooed hand coming up to squeeze your bare thigh and legs spreading a bit farther apart.

"Holy shit, please—"

"Please what, hm?"

God, were you enjoying this. Seeing the girl who half of fucking Jackson was afraid of, melt like absolute putty in your hands. Hearing her moans and pleas, feeling her warm touch on your skin, it was almost enough to send you over the edge. You would've never guessed she was a beggar, though, that was a nice surprise.

You smile into her hair, kissing her shiny temple. "Please what? Use your words." And she barely returns a coherent moan back. You already got her falling apart and you just started.

Ellie squeezes your thigh once more, bucking up her shaky hips off of the couch, "Can I take them off? Please? Please, please, please." The tip of her nose nuzzles your neck, the slightest touch sending shivers down your spine. Her desperation only fuels you more.

You chuckle. Oh, you were gonna ruin her.

"Only good girls get what they want, are you a good girl, hm?"

The toy trails up and down, pausing just where she needs you the most before continuing its path to her aching hole. It pushes and prods until her pretty moans slip past her swollen lips, getting muffled in the skin of your neck. You stop, lifting up the buzzing vibrator, just to drop it down again when you see her writhe beneath you.

"Yes, fuck, I'm being good, I swear!" Ellie mutters out and you can hear the slight hesitation in her trembling voice, this not being her usual role in the bedroom. Only a few have made it to this stage, her usual strong and somewhat quiet demeanour showing a totally different side to her.

But this, this side she doesn't let out often. This was absolutely different than any other hook up she's ever had. Hell, even Ellie herself wouldn't have guessed this is where she would end up tonight — on her friends worn-down couch practically, no, full on begging to get properly fucked.

A soft kiss is placed on your neck, just below your ear, your skin tingling from the sudden contact. She follows it by placing a few more sloppy ones, quivering moans slipping out in between. This was some sort of Ellie's way of bribing you, telling you to just take off her sticky undergarments and let her feel everything, she's been good so far, right? She deserves her reward.

"Please—" Ellie whimpers, so softly, so desperately that you barely catch it. You figure she's had enough.

"You can take 'em off. Slowly." You steadily take the toy off of her, a translucent string of slick sticking to it as you lift it up.

Holy fuck.

She was absolutely killing you.

Ellie nods, inserting her clammy hands into the waistband of her black boxers, slowly and painfully sliding them down her trembling legs. She returns to her position, thighs open so wide she would be embarrassed if she wasn't so fucking turned on. You take this as an invitation to continue and you place the pink vibrator just above her sensitive bud, testing out if she's ready as you massage her skin.

"That's it, good girl. You're being so good for me right now. You ready?" Fuck, you're shaking just as much as her and you're not even the one being touched.

"I'm-I'm ready. Mhm!" Ellie's almost unintelligible, babbling into your neck as she cranes her head to see your hand working its magic as it inches down.

As per her request, you lower the toy on her clit, starting off with small circles as you let her get used to the intense feeling. Ellie groans out, relieved that you finally let her have it. Finally, she feels the full effect of the pink toy that's been teasing her for the past half an hour. She's surprised she even lasted that long.

"Fuuuuu— Feels so good. Don't stop, please! Don't stop, holy shit—"

The sounds that fill the room are obscene, dirty, so fucking filthy. Wet squelches, whiny groans and curses fill up your ears and you swear you can feel everything you're giving her, almost on the edge yourself.

The vibrator continues to buzz deliciously against her swollen clit as you run your hand down her heated body, occasionally stopping to grope at her pretty tits and feel her quiver and babble in your hold. You can sense that she's close, needing that one final push.

"You close, hm? You gonna be good and come for me?"

Ellie, as good as ever, nods at your questions, eager to finally feel her release. As much as she was impatient, she wouldn't have it any other way.

No one else but you.

Her hips rock against your hand as you match up her speed, her pace messy and faltering as she chases her long-awaited high. Her breathing picks up and she moans louder than before, so near her peak it's almost painful — almost like she's waiting for your much needed approval.

"You can come, baby." You nod, voice hushed as you watch her with blown out pupils.

And she does, she comes so hard she could swear she's in another dimension. The orgasm hits Ellie hard and fast, her moans chocked up and high-pitched, plump lips open and brows creased — you could come just from the sight. Her weak hands grip your own, pale knuckles turning a shade lighter from the tight hold she has on you.

You, of course, talk her through it. "Good girl. My good girl. You did so well, you know that?"

After a string of curses and a couple of seconds later, Ellie comes down from her high, instinctively closing her trembling thighs around the vibrator placed between her legs and panting as she wipes the shiny sweat off her forehead.

"Holy fucking shit. That was— Fuck..." She pants, still meekly holding your thigh with one hand as she pushes the toy away from her, her aching pussy still overly sensitive for more. As much as you would love to overstimulate her, you decide to save that for another time, another lesson perhaps.

"Good? Bad? Never again?" You chuckle softly, feeling satisfied with yourself as you caress her auburn hair, weak fingers threading through her damp locks.

Ellie lets out a breathy laugh, "It was amazing, never felt anything like it. Shit."

A few moments of silence pass as you lay in each others arms, simply enjoying the presence of the other. Your sticky limbs tangled and your bodies sweaty as you match your breathing to Ellie's, cheek pressed on the top of her head.

"You know," you whisper in her ear, "you were being such a good girl, I'm up for some more..."

You were in for a long night.

[basilthesnakingthing]

Yeah, I saw that definition on plurlpedia and it didn’t make much sense to me.

But . . thinking of myself like what I described might solve everything that’s wrong with me, actually.

Cause before I would think “I can’t control when I’m able to be productive, I just have to take advantage of it when doing something feels doable. But even then, I can’t control what sort of things I can be productive about. Art? Better than nothing, but it does ultimately feel selfish and self destructive of me at once when I haven’t seemed to be able to do almost any homework this whole semester and that job application is still blank. Why am I so helpless about what I can do, when? Even other ADHD people manage, like. There are things they can do to make it work. But there aren’t for me, not besides someone being in the room, interested in what I’m doing. And that’s not practical enough to be a real solution, nobody who cares has time to do that with me.”

But now that I’ve realized what I did in my last reblog, it’s more like “there are different versions of me, and each one has things they’re really good at, and things they want and some things they just can’t do. One of them can do art! And write, and work on ideas I thought of! It really likes explaining things and theoretical stuff and talking to friends. But in order to work on anything out of obligation, anything that I would be doing because I know I should, like cleaning my room or taking care of myself physically, doing nice things for other people or my homework, I have to switch and become this other version of me who doesn’t seem to suffer from executive dysfunction for some reason, and can do any of those tasks happily. That version finds that sort of thing very satisfying. But it’s the only version who can do things like that.”

I what feels like “me” is the sum of all four versions and their behaviors. But if I only think of it like that, my abilities are priorities seem so inconsistent and broken. I wonder if cultivating more separation would help. If it’s different entities with different abilities and priorities, than it won’t be inconsistent, and know I just have to be deliberate about switching. (Which, intuitively, seems like it would be easier to do if there was more separation)

Made a plural version of that one meme

[kaivenom]

Can you do OP dilfs get jumpscared by their s/o. Like they manage to actually jumpscare them. Whether a little or a lot or how they do it is up to you

One Piece Dilfs getting jumpscared by their s/o HCS

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

A/N: lately, all you people are getting really creative with the requests and i am loving it.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

You were tired of being jumpscared by him, you already asked him to do some noise when he enters a room but he still doesn't do it.

So you were determined to give him a taste of his own medicine.

He came back from a trip so he would expect to be welcomed by you but it wasn't.

You even set some previous traps to mislead him, your strategy was perfect.

When you came from behind one of the warrior monkeys (yes, you had to do a make a deal with them, it was worth it) and you jumped around him.

He didn't yell nor make a sound, but he jumped and became paralized, his eyes were wide open with fear.

"Jajaja, i got you."

He turned around with his and on the heart and heavy breaths.

"Please, don't do that again."

"Now you know how it feels like."

Donquixote Doflamingo

He challenged you and you of course accepted.

You tried multiple times and failed eveyone of them.

"I am sorry for you darling."

"Yeah, i should take this as a defeat." you said while crawling to his lap.

"Yeah, you should..."

And then the last and desperate part of your plan finally succeed, you placed a big fake spider on his shoulder and he screamed while trying to take it off.

After he realized it was your fault, he started to laugh like a maniac.

"My god, you got me there, jajjaja, you managed to scare me..."

Suddently his laugh stopped and he approached you with a mischiveous smile.

"Now you will get your prize, or more like your punishment."

Sr. Crocodile

It was a prank that you decided to do while he was on the office, more like a little surprise.

You made the secretary move the box in which you were to Crocodile's office.

When you heard him enter you came out with a confetti gun, you wanted to be like those movie girls.

Instead he put his hand on his heart and started to say a lot of swear words, you never saw him like that.

"Out."

You couldn't argue and went out of his office, really sad.

A couple of minutes later he went to your side and maked a fuss to you, then he kissed you for trying to surprise him.

Smoker

He doesn't expect you to jumpscare him so it's really easy in fact.

You on your part, wanted to do scare him, no doubt about it.

Since he got a little bratty with you on work, you decided to get payback.

You set the vibe of the house, really creepy and dark, of course he isn't scared at first.

Then you decided to go on with the extreme part of it, the jumpscares.

A fake snake hanging on the door to mislead him and then you with a mask.

You appeared behind him and when he saw you, he yelled something between a scream and a yell and formed a smoke cloud around you.

"Son of a b... honey?" you were slamed against the wall and your whole body hurt.

"This happens to you for doing stupid and crazy ideas..." he exhaled, "i am so sorry for hitting you."

"At least we know your reflexes are on point." he kissed the pain away.

Akagami Shanks

You are in fact, really noiseless so when you two first moved in together, you tried to have than in mind.

Always knocking before entering or simplu doing noises with your foot to not scare anyone on the ship.

But after a week, you were on the cellar of the ship, doing some inventory, nothing to much.

Shanks entered, probably to open a bottle.

He started to wander around the shelves, you didn't notice his pressence at first.

Then you do, cause he is the noisy one, and went to meet him.

You thought that it would be cute to hug him from behind, but...

"Oh my god, a ghost on the ship!!!!" he got scared of your touch, jumped, screamed that and almost fainted.

You don't know how that happened since he had haki, but he almost had a hear attack and you felt really bad.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

mentally prepping myself for another 9.5 hr shift tomorrow…might end up committing a few minor crimes after but we’ll see

[lilacstro]

★this might be the night that my dreams might let me know, all the stars are closer"★. pac: what to expect next in life

hey guys! long time no see! I wanted to post this pac on new years but I just....didn't.

anyways, I hope you enjoy this one. drop suggestions in the ask box!

PS: I saw 9 of cups in all of the piles, and this tells me maybe all the collective together is going to have a wish fulfillment soon! that's so sweet haha

support me on ko-fi

Paid readings open

₊˚ʚ Pile 1 ₊˚ʚ

current energy: some of you here might be quitting something. There is a "bid adieu" kind of energy here. There also seems to be a throat chakra blockage, maybe you are unable to speak, maybe due to throat issues, cold, flu or even could be engaging in frequent arguments. An advice for you regardless is taking time to think before you speak. Some of you here might also be having trauma resurface. There could be trust/confidence issues as well. Some of you here might also be going through third eye activation. There may also be trouble in engaging things you want to, making time and space for things. You may be having nightmares or such kind of thoughts stemming from past, your family lineage or even trauma.

what's next: for some of you here, who were leaving something, or someone behind, good call, it is the right thing to do. I am hearing "everything that has ever been lost will always be replaced by something better". There would be a lot of options making themselves available to you. You have divine luck, divine protection. One more thing that is coming through is that a fake relationship would fall off, especially if it is with a women. Some of you may also have a change of personality, going from a "I'm a boss bitch" types to going into more serene energy, more calm and collected. Mind you, I do not mean to say there's anything wrong with either :) For those of you who want it, there are options in love coming through as well. For some of you, you may as well have many options in love, think clearly though because one of them may end up being your true love. There would be a lot of emotional healing coming through. For those of you who have been "used" to feeling numb, your heart would open again, just use your thinking and think clearly, please. One of your heartfelt wishes, one you had a lot of attachment to may be coming true as well. It is also possible to hear an apology from someone, especially if they are a water sign.

₊˚ʚ Pile 2 ₊˚ʚ

current energy: while shuffling these cards I had a feeling of "money" being important to this group. Either you gained money, lost it, are investing it or maybe you are planning to make a significant purchase. Pile 3 maybe important as well. Some of you may also be in a mental hole. Feeling trapped or burdened by something. Someone here could have also gone through a hardship in romantic connection, a heartbreak or could have seen the options they anticipated not work out, making a wrong choice. Some of you here might also be struggling with making changes in your day to day life, which can be as big as moving countries or as small as working out everyday. Holding on to ideas, people, memories or routines you know you should let go of.

what's next: I see a wonderful opportunity for financial gains presenting itself to you. You may be afraid or nervous to take it, but go after it, Pile 2. Do not get confused though. Apart from this you may also see new bonds being strengthening with friends and people you meet, more confidence and charisma. You'd appear attractive and reliable, and if you are someone who is anxious socially or likes being alone, you would come out of the shell and enjoy life, enjoy people. For people who are going through a breakup, especially, getting over this person may be the best thing to do. It may take a while, but there is wonderful things awaiting you. If you can subscribe to this description of this person being extremely manipulative with their words, it's even more of a confirmation. For others of you, do not sabotage things coming to you. If its love, luck, money, travel. A wish is about to come true but maybe not exactly how you thought it would. For example, money may come in form of an idea, meeting someone important may come in form of having this feeling of going to that place or saying hi to that person etc. So do not sabotage your blessings by being in a warzone mentally always :)

₊˚ʚ Pile 3 ₊˚ʚ

current energy: Some of you here may be working out a lot. Listening to motivational music. Some of you might also be growing more towards calmer things and ideas, maybe yoga, spiritual retreats in mountains etc. I get why there was a connection between pile 2 and 3, because yet again there seems to be a feeling of being deceived in love, or feeling as if the wish came true but it was a façade. Some of you might also have received a promotion at work, or may have been taking too much workload, maybe even creating an imbalance. There could be arguments on this. Some of you may have "severed ties" with something, maybe a habit, an idea, or a person, but regardless it seems for the best. Birds may be important. I would say watch out for people who try to appear "way too sweet" and try to get under your skin the meanwhile. There could have been a connection which was off balance, especially the masculine energy which could've led to the spiritual awakening of the feminine energy.

what's next: There seems to be a LOT of things that seem to be coming for you pile 3. Before I type next, I heard "revolution starts within", makes sense since I am seeing a lot of reversals in your reading. You need to step out of your mind and body for a while, or atleast strike a balance to be able to experience the real world. "You are not running out of time" is one another message I heard. You will find your spark again, very very soon. Being full of energy, exciting things in life, that once felt dull and lifeless. A period of stagnation is ending. You would be given a way to live this exciting time, but you have to act on it yourself. "Do not be afraid of judgement or being cringey" Maybe you wanted to start a venture, an account, YouTube, do it! Because there is indeed some change coming into your career and financial situation which is divine. A wish is about to come true. Do not "force" change or your energy levels on yourself, let it take time. There is a lot of healing happening for you, especially if you were hurt by someone or something in the past. Things are about to get soo good. Spring after a winter.

[criticalcrusherbot]

Maybe this is old news but I am so tired of trying to understand where people with these opinions are coming from. I just so fundamentally disagree with this take but I can’t put into words why it’s wrong. Any thoughts?

🤖: Beep Boop! Bullshit detected!

💁🏽‍♀️: Thanks for the submission! The “Stolitz is toxic” argument is so tiiiiredddd 😩 The only thing that’s old news is that these people refusing to put forth the literary analysis skills I’d expect in a 6th grade Language Arts class. Let’s get into it 😈

1. “Selling His Body”? That’s a Reach.

Let’s address the claim that Blitz is “selling his body” like he’s some helpless victim in a one-sided arrangement. First of all, Blitz isn’t some wide-eyed innocent here—he’s a grown, street smart businessman who agreed to a transactional arrangement. Was the arrangement generally fucked up? Of course. Is it sex-work adjacent? Sure. (And that’s not even unpacking the creepy hangup on “selling bodies”. Are farm workers selling their bodies? Are massage therapists? Sex work is selling a service. Don’t be weird.) But, anyway, to flat-out call it “selling his body” strips away the nuance and agency Blitz demonstrates throughout the series. He’s not being coerced or forced into anything; he’s making a calculated decision to gain access to the grimoire in exchange for sex—a service he’s fully in control of providing. (And one that he is implicitly shown to enjoy.)

And let’s not forget: Blitz has made it very clear that he’s comfortable saying “no” to Stolas whenever he wants. From turning down flirtation (“Loo Loo Land”, “Harvest Moon Festival.”) to leaving Stolas right on his literal driveway (“Ozzie’s”), Blitz shows us time and again that he’s perfectly capable of setting boundaries. So the notion that Stolas has this overwhelming power to impose “extra stipulations” whenever he wants? It’s not just a bad analysis—it’s outright fanfiction.

2. Stolas: Power Dynamics, Accountability, and Trying to Do Better

Now, onto Stolas. Yes, he held the upper hand in their initial arrangement, but—and this is key—he took active steps to dismantle that dynamic once he realized it was harmful (Full Moon, anyone?). He didn’t just say, “Eh, it’s fine,” and keep exploiting the situation. He found a way for Blitz to retain access to the Human World without the sex, prioritizing Blitz’s autonomy over his own desires.

Does this sound like a man hellbent on abusing his power? Absolutely not. In fact, it’s a rare example of a character in hell actively reflecting on their flaws and attempting to grow. The argument that Stolas could have added “extra stipulations” at any time is irrelevant because—surprise!—he didn’t. If anything, his actions suggest he’s gone out of his way to not impose on Blitz unnecessarily.

3. Subtext Is Not a Dirty Word

This take also commits the cardinal sin of ignoring subtext, which is borderline comedic given how much of Helluva Boss thrives on it. From the very beginning, the show has been laying the groundwork for Blitz and Stolas’ emotional connection. Blitz’s walls of self-loathing and fear of rejection are juxtaposed with Stolas’ desperation for love and validation. The result is a relationship that is messy, imperfect, and full of potential—not “toxic” as this take lazily asserts.

The idea that “neither of them care about the other” is demonstrably false. Did we all watch Western Energy, where Blitz nearly sacrificed himself for Stolas? Or The Circus, where Stolas sings an entire ballad about finding joy in Blitz? The claim that their relationship lacks personal depth isn’t just wrong—it’s willfully obtuse.

4. Art ≠ Moral Instruction

Let’s address the pearl-clutching over the show supposedly “justifying a toxic relationship.” First, calling their relationship “toxic” is a gross oversimplification that ignores their growth as characters. Second—and more importantly—morality has no place in media analysis.

We’re watching a show about literal demons in hell. It’s not Sesame Street, and it’s not obligated to provide morally perfect examples of relationships. The beauty of Helluva Boss lies in its willingness to explore the messy, complicated dynamics that reflect real human struggles. Art exists to provoke thought and explore complexity—not to handhold us with squeaky-clean moral lessons.

Final Thoughts: A Hot Take That’s Ice-Cold

This take is a masterclass in bad faith. It distorts the narrative, ignores subtext, and weaponizes morality to dismiss a nuanced and evolving relationship. Blitz and Stolas are flawed, yes—but their relationship is rich with depth, vulnerability, and the messy reality of two broken people trying to connect.

So here’s my advice to whoever penned this take: Watch the show again. Engage with the text and the subtext. And stop treating Helluva Boss like it’s supposed to be your personal guide to moral behavior.

Now, who’s next? Crushbot is just getting warmed up. 🤖😈

[theambitiouswoman]

I am someone with a desire to socialize/build relationships/network who has always had to deal with unprovoked envy, hidden animosity, general unprovoked mistreatment which has therefore made me withdraw and suppress a lot of my skills. I’ve experienced these things in social interactions and even interpersonal and familial relationships. while I can be self-assured, assertive and confident, I have a history of people-pleasing and I notice that this makes me more susceptible to the things I mentioned above. I have reflected on this and determined that most people have been intimidated by me/my talents but that the manner in which I go out of my way to appease people or just be graceful, kind, and soft-hearted in general or makes them feel comfortable enough to project that intimidation by disrespecting and attempting to belittle me.

I have dealt with people’s responses to me by embodying my masculine energy in order to self-protect (lots of anger). Do you have any advice or ideas for a consistent routine to help me truly begin assert boundaries, prioritize myself and not allow others to take me out of my true element (powerful, creative, self-confident) while also still dealing with said people? I have tried in the past but particularly in interpersonal relationship I fail, due to the way I carry extreme guilt for prioritizing myself and due to fear of abandonment.

I love this question, i've been dying to talk about this so thank you!!!

In my humble opinion, it seems like you are at a point where you have done work on yourself, are trying to improve and have learned how to become more aware of your surroundings. This is actually really great! My take away when I read it is that you are stuck in somewhat of what I like to call a limbo position.

And this is something that I didn't understand myself when I went through a lot of the same pain points you brought up.

Some of the main reasons you may be in this cycle is because, for one, you may be continuing in the same environment or meeting the same people in new bodies. Or you are handling the situations with new people the same way you did before. I think thats the point you were trying to make.

I just want to first say that you are not an intimidating woman. Get that out of your head because it sets a negative thought pattern and will subconsciously keep you in a loop where you are repeating cycles. You are only intimidating to the wrong people. You may be settling for less or selling yourself short in regards to your expectations with yourself or your self worth. I say this with love, obviously. It's probably not even something that you realize cause you really do seem to have amazing attributes. If you didn't, you wouldn't feel the way you do now.

However, I really suggest you stop trying to water yourself down to make others feel comfortable. Because that is really what its coming down to. You cant make a shoe thats a size smaller than you fit. Time to change your shoes because its obvious you have outgrown these environments and have not realized that you are capable of so much more. You are letting the guilt from this make you limit yourself and thats totally not fair for you.

Which leads me to your next paragraph.

The issue here seems to be the lack of emotional control. It is not what you say, but how you say it. And that occurs because we are not fully healed from whatever wounds, or not confident in ourselves. Either or, or both. You should be able to and can get to a place with yourself where you can assert yourself with a calm, straight forward tone and get the message across.

If fear of abandonment is your thing, you may be tying yourself worth to others. Maybe as a child, you experienced neglect, inconsistent care, or emotional disconnection that planted the seeds of your fear of abandonment. So you should maybe start by challenging the negative beliefs that stem from these experiences, such as “I’m not enough” or “People always leave me,” and replace them with affirmations like “I am worthy of love and connection.” Focus on self validation by meeting your own emotional needs, learning to comfort yourself during moments of insecurity. Express your needs and trust that doing so strengthens relationships rather than pushes people away. Change your perspective in the same way i referenced about you being intimidating, to abandonment as a natural part of life’s flow, so you recognize that it doesn’t reflect your worth. Work on your emotional independence by pursuing personal goals, doing activities you love and self love habits. This will help you build more confidence and resilience with interpersonal relationships so that when someone tries you, hurts you etc, you feel confident enough to be like, "yeah, you don't need to be in my life." vs being overwhelmed by emotion out of the fear of losing someone who is not treating you how you should be treated.

Hope this helped.

<3

[staygolden-and-chaotic]

Here's another one, the outsiders boys having to babysit I feel it would be cute n hectic

Sincerely

The greaser who's bad at ideas aka bug

STAWP HI BUG! Okay love this idea.

Sincerely

Someone who barley can write and truly tries to wing it.

_________________________________________________

Darrel Curtis

At first, Darry hesitates when his partner asks him to babysit. He’s already used to wrangling Ponyboy and Sodapop, so the idea of watching over a baby feels like unfamiliar territory. But he agrees because, let’s face it, he’s a total softie when it comes to them.

Before they arrives, Darry goes into full protective mode. He double checks the sharp edges of furniture, hides any dangerous objects, and makes sure the baby’s play area is safe. Soda and Pony think he’s overdoing it and tease him relentlessly.

The moment there dropped off, Darry immediately slips into big brother mode. He approaches babysitting like it’s a job careful, responsible, and always on high alert.

He’s great with his brothers, but with a baby, he’s initially stiff and awkward. Holding them feels like balancing a football, and he’s overly cautious with every move. “Am I doing this right?” becomes his most used phrase of the day.

Seeing Darry struggle, Soda jumps in to help. He’s a natural with kids and instantly gets the baby laughing. Darry watches him and starts to loosen up, slowly building confidence.

To Darry’s surprise (and mild frustration), the baby seems to adore Ponyboy. Every time Pony walks into the room, they giggle and reaches for him, making Darry mutter, “Well, I guess I’m chopped liver.”

When the baby gets fussy, Darry tells them stories about when he was a kid. His deep voice and animated expressions captivate them, and soon enough, there calm and smiling.

At some point, things inevitably go wrong. The baby manages to knock over a bowl of cereal or spill juice on his shirt. Darry sighs but quickly cleans up, grumbling about how “this is harder than roofing.”

Getting them to nap is a whole ordeal. Darry tries rocking them, singing softly, and even reading them one of Pony’s books. When nothing works, he finally gets Soda to lend a hand, and together they manage to get the baby to sleep.

Once there asleep, Darry can’t help but feel a wave of pride. He watches the baby sleep for a moment, realizing he’s not as bad at this babysitting thing as he thought.

When his partner comes to pick up the baby , they find Darry on the floor playing peek-a-boo. They teases him about how good he is with kids, and his ears turn red. “It’s no big deal,” he mumbles, trying to play it cool.

Despite his initial reluctance, Darry secretly enjoyed the experience. Later, he jokes to Soda and Pony that babysitting is harder than dealing with a gang fight, but they catch the small smile on his face.

Sodapop Curtis

When his partner asks him to babysit there baby sister, Sodapop is all in. He’s confident, saying, “Babies love me. This’ll be a breeze!” His natural charm and easygoing attitude make him feel like he’s got it under control.

The second the baby is dropped off, Soda crouches to her level and starts playing peek-a-boo. She giggles instantly, and he grins, already winning her over.

Soda is an absolute pro without even trying. He carries the baby around like he’s been doing it forever, bouncing her on his hip and chatting with her like she’s an old friend.

He’s full of energy, so he spends the first hour making goofy faces, crawling around on the floor, and chasing her with a stuffed animal. The baby is laughing so hard she gets the hiccups.

When he runs out of actual toys, Soda starts grabbing random household items a wooden spoon, a shoelace, and even an empty cereal box to entertain her. Somehow, it works like a charm.

He tries to read her a children’s book, but halfway through, he starts making up his own silly story. It’s full of exaggerated voices and wild gestures, which keeps the baby mesmerized.

At some point, Soda turns on the radio and starts dancing with the baby in his arms. He spins her around, and she squeals with delight. Pony walks in and shakes his head, muttering, “You’re ridiculous.”

When it’s snack time, Soda carefully feeds her small bites of food while pretending each spoonful is an airplane or a train. He ends up with more food on his shirt than in her mouth, but he doesn’t mind.

When she gets fussy, Soda knows exactly what to do. He gently rocks her while humming a tune, pacing around the house until she calms down. He even lets her play with his hair, despite her pulling it a little too hard.

Darry and Pony can’t resist checking in. Darry watches for a minute, impressed, while Pony teases, “You’re gonna make a great dad someday, Soda.” Soda just grins and says, “I know!”

Unlike Pony, Soda handles diaper changes like a champ. He jokes to the baby, “This ain’t my first rodeo, kid,” even though it probably is. Somehow, he manages to keep it neat and quick.

When it’s nap time, Soda grabs a blanket and lays on the couch with the baby on his chest. He hums softly, and she falls asleep almost immediately. He stays there, not wanting to disturb her, and quietly dozes off himself.

When his partner arrives, they finds Soda asleep on the couch with the baby snuggled up on him. Soda wakes up groggily and just gives her that charming grin.

After they leave, Pony and Darry tease him mercilessly, saying he’s basically already a dad. Soda just shrugs and says, “What can I say? I’ve got a gift.”

Ponyboy Curtis

Ponyboy has zero experience with babies, so when his partner asks him to babysit there baby sister, he’s immediately nervous but agrees because he wants to impress her.

The night before, Pony stays up reading a book about babysitting. He even asks Darry for advice, which Darry delivers with a smirk: “Just don’t drop her, Pony.”

Soda reassures him in the morning, saying, “You’ll be fine, Pony. Babies are just tiny humans with drool.” This somehow doesn’t make him feel better.

The moment his girlfriend drops her off, Pony realizes how small the baby is. He’s extra cautious, holding her like she’s made of glass. But when she starts crying, he panics and runs to Soda for help.

Pony tries to entertain her by reading Gone with the Wind, but the baby is more interested in chewing on the pages than listening. He quickly swaps the book out for a rattle.

When she starts crying again, Pony picks her up and starts pacing. He talks to her about his brothers, the gang, and even his favorite movies. To his surprise, she quiets down and stares at him like she’s actually listening.

While the baby is playing with her toys, Pony tries to sneak in some writing time. Unfortunately, she gets fussy every time he looks away, so he has to ditch his notebook and give her his full attention.

Pony is absolutely blown away by how adorable the baby is. When she giggles or reaches for his face, he can’t help but smile and play peek-a-boo with her, despite feeling silly.

At one point, Dally stops by and sees Pony struggling. He smirks and says, “Just let her cry it out, Ponyboy. Babies need tough love.” Pony ignores him completely and shoos him away.

Pony’s artistic side kicks in when he starts drawing silly pictures for the baby. She claps her hands excitedly at the funny doodles, and he feels a little proud that he can make her happy.

When the baby needs a diaper change, Pony freezes in horror. He calls out for Soda, but Soda just laughs and says, “It’s all you, Pony!” After some fumbling and gagging, he manages to get it done, though he swears never to do it again.

After hours of playing and entertaining her, the baby finally falls asleep in his arms. Pony sits on the couch, afraid to move in case he wakes her up. He can’t help but feel a little proud of himself.

When his partner comes to pick up there sister, they find Pony sitting quietly with the baby asleep in his arms. There melts on the spot, calling him “the sweetest.” Pony���s cheeks turn red as he mumbles, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

As soon as his partner leaves, Darry and Soda jump at the chance to tease him. “Looks like you’re a natural, Ponyboy,” Soda says with a wink. Pony rolls his eyes but secretly feels a bit proud.

Johnny Cade

He’s hesitant at first. He’s never babysat before and doesn’t feel confident, but he agrees because he wants to help her out and because he secretly loves kids.

When the baby is dropped off, Johnny is shy but gentle. He kneels down to her level and gives her a small smile, saying, “Hey there, kiddo.” She stares at him for a moment before giggling, which makes him relax a bit.

Johnny triple checks everything to make sure it’s safe. He keeps the baby’s toys nearby, makes sure there’s nothing sharp within reach, and keeps looking over his shoulder to make sure she’s okay.

Johnny sits on the floor with her and carefully hands her toys one by one. He’s soft spoken, quietly narrating what he’s doing to keep her entertained. “This one’s a bear. You like bears, right?”

The first time the baby laughs at something he does probably making a funny face Johnny’s whole demeanor brightens. He starts trying different little tricks to keep her giggling.

Anytime the baby stumbles while crawling or gets fussy, Johnny is there in a heartbeat, making sure she’s okay. He’s super attentive, constantly keeping an eye on her.

Johnny grabs one of Ponyboy’s books and starts reading softly to the baby. His quiet voice soothes her, even if she doesn’t understand the words. He feels proud when she snuggles into him during the story.

When the baby starts crying for no apparent reason, Johnny panics a little. He tries everything rocking her, giving her a toy, even singing softly. Eventually, he figures out she just wanted her bottle and feels relieved.

As the baby starts to calm down, she reaches for Johnny’s face, touching his cheeks and hair. He chuckles nervously but lets her, feeling an unexpected warmth at how much trust she has in him.

When it’s time to change her diaper, Johnny freezes and quietly mutters, “I can do this. I can do this.” He ends up calling Ponyboy for help, and together they manage to get it done, with plenty of laughter and gagging involved.

When it’s time for her nap, Johnny rocks her gently in his arms, humming a soft tune. His soothing presence works wonders, and she falls asleep against his chest. He feels a mix of pride and relief.

when the gang finds out, Dally teases Johnny, saying, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Johnnycake.” Johnny just shrugs with a small smile, secretly proud of how well he did.

Dallas Winston

“ A baby? C’mon, babe, I’m not a damn nanny.” But they gives him that look, and Dally, despite his tough-guy exterior, can’t say no.

Dally doesn’t plan anything. He figures, “How hard can it be?” Spoiler: It’s harder than he thought.

The baby stares at him the moment there dropped off, and Dally stares right back. “What’re you lookin’ at, kid?” he mutters.

Dally refuses to use baby talk. Instead, he talks to her like she’s one of his friends. “Alright, kid, let’s get this over with. Don’t cry, and we’ll be fine.”

Within minutes, the baby is crawling everywhere, pulling on things, and grabbing at his leather jacket. Dally sighs, picks her up, and says, “You’re a real handful, you know that?”

Dally ends up entertaining her in the most Dallas way possible. He tosses her in the air (carefully, of course) and makes silly faces while pretending he’s too cool to care. She squeals with laughter, and he secretly loves it.

He tries feeding her but has no patience for the mess. When she throws her food on the floor, he groans and mutters, “You’re worse than Two-Bit after a bender.” Still, he cleans it up though he grumbles the whole time.

At some point, Dally teaches the baby something mischievous, like how to stick her tongue out or the middle finger . When she copies him, he grins proudly. “You’re gonna be a little hood, just like me.”

When the baby starts crying out of nowhere, Dally freezes. “What the hell do you want?!” he blurts out, pacing the room. He tries bouncing her awkwardly and even calls Johnny for advice. Eventually, he figures out she just needed her stuffed animal.

Despite his tough exterior, Dally has a natural way with the baby. When she gets tired, he sits on the couch, holding her against his chest, quietly humming an old tune. He doesn’t even realize how gentle he’s being.

Two-Bit and Johnny stop by and immediately start teasing Dally about being a babysitter. “Never thought I’d see the day,” Two-Bit says, laughing. Dally chases them out, muttering, “Idiots.”

When the baby finally falls asleep, Dally feels like he’s won a battle. He sits still, afraid to move, and mumbles, “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid.”

When his partner comes back, they finds Dally holding the baby, who’s still asleep. They raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” Dally shrugs and says, “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

Dally plays it cool. “Babies are easy,” he says with a smirk, leaving out the chaotic moments. But they all know he’s secretly a softie when it comes to people he cares about.

Steve Randle

He immediately says, “Of course I can handle it! How hard could it be?” He’s convinced he’s going to be the best babysitter ever.

When the baby is dropped off, Steve tries to impress his partner by acting super confident. “See? She already loves me!” he says as the baby stares at him. She immediately pulls on his hair, and Steve laughs it off like it’s no big deal.

Steve spends the first ten minutes holding the baby and telling her all about cars. “This is an engine,” he says, showing her a car magazine “Someday, I’ll teach you how to fix one.”

It doesn’t take long for the baby to start crawling around and getting into things. Steve tries to keep up, muttering, “You’re faster than I thought, kid.”

Steve’s idea of babysitting is showing the baby all the “cool” things he can do, like balancing a spoon on his nose or spinning her toy in the air. She claps her hands excitedly, and he beams. “Told ya I’m good at this!”

When it’s time to feed her, Steve ends up making a mess. He tries to feed her while making airplane noises, but she smacks the spoon, and the food goes flying. “Okay, that’s on you, not me,” he says, laughing.

At one point, Steve pulls out a small wrench and pretends to “teach” the baby how to fix things. “This is how you tighten a bolt,” he says. The baby grabs the wrench and tries to chew on it, and he quickly swaps it for a teething toy.

When the inevitable diaper change comes, Steve groans. “Alright, how bad could it- OH, COME ON!” He powers through, making faces and jokes the whole time, but he’s gagging the entire time.

Steve grabs a comb and a piece of paper, making a makeshift kazoo. He plays silly tunes for the baby, who giggles and bounces along. He grins and says, “You’ve got good taste, kid.”

When the baby starts crying and he can’t figure out why, Steve calls Sodapop for advice. “What do I do? She’s crying, and I’ve tried everything!” Soda calmly tells him to check if she’s tired or needs her stuffed animal. Steve follows the advice, and it works like a charm.

As much as Steve acts like he’s all about fun, he has a sweet, nurturing side. When the baby starts to get sleepy, he gently rocks her and hums quietly, surprising even himself with how natural it feels.

When his partner comes they smiles and say “Looks like you had fun.” Steve grins and says, “Told ya I could handle it.”

Twobit Mathews

Twobit grins and says, “I’ll have her cracking up in no time. I’m basically a comedian for babies.” He’s way too confident for someone with no experience.

The second the baby is dropped off, TwoBit starts pulling faces and making silly noises. The baby stares at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “See? Told ya I’m a natural,” he says proudly.

TwoBit immediately gets distracted playing with the baby’s toys himself. “This thing spins? That’s wild!” The baby doesn’t mind she just watches him with wide eyed fascination.

When it’s time to feed her, Two-Bit pretends to host a cooking show. “And here we have the finest mashed peas, perfect for a baby connoisseur.” He ends up with food on his shirt, but the baby thinks it’s hilarious.

TwoBit turns on cartoons, claiming it’s for the baby, but he’s the one laughing the loudest. The baby just sits on his lap, occasionally pointing at the screen while TwoBit says, “Oh, that guy? He’s gonna slip on a banana peel. Watch!”

When the baby starts crying, TwoBit doesn’t panic. He immediately launches into full-on clown mode, using exaggerated voices and pretending to trip over the furniture. The baby can’t help but giggle.

TwoBit encourages a bit of chaos, like teaching the baby how to blow raspberries or make a funny noise with her lips. When she copies him, he laughs so hard he nearly falls over. “You’re my kinda kid!”

When it’s diaper time, TwoBit groans and mutters, “Why didn’t anyone warn me about this part?” He tries to pawn it off on Johnny or Ponyboy if they’re nearby, but when they refuse, he tackles it himself, gagging dramatically the whole time.

TwoBit finds a baby hat or some funny clothes and tries them on her. “Look at you, kid! Stylin’ and profilin’!” He might even put on her little sunglasses and take a Polaroid.

Instead of reading a regular baby book, TwoBit decides to tell her a completely made up story full of wild exaggerations. “And then the brave knight me, of course- defeated the dragon with a rubber chicken!” The baby claps, even if she doesn’t understand a word.

Despite his joking nature, TwoBit can’t help but melt a little when the baby grabs his finger or giggles at something he does. “You’re kinda cute, you know that?” he says with a smile.

When the baby refuses to nap, TwoBit tries everything rocking her, singing (badly), and even pretending to nap himself. Eventually, she falls asleep, but not before he mutters, “You’re one stubborn little thing.”

When his partner comes back, the house is a bit of a mess, with toys and snacks everywhere. But the baby is happy and giggling, and Two Bit is sitting on the floor with a juice box in one hand and a toy in the other. “Don’t worry, babe, I handled it,” he says with a wink.

Tim Shepard

He raises an eyebrow and says, “Babysit? You know I don’t do kids.”

He finally agrees after much begging.

: At first, Tim is all business. He picks the baby up awkwardly, holding her at arm’s length, and mutters, “Alright, kid, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Despite his tough demeanor, Tim quickly becomes hyper aware of the baby’s safety. He moves sharp objects, makes sure she’s nowhere near the edge of the couch, and keeps a watchful eye on her every move.

Tim isn’t great at playing, but he gives it a shot. He shakes a rattle a little too aggressively, and when the baby giggles, he smirks. “You like that, huh? Simple taste, kid.”

When it’s time to feed her, Tim approaches it like a mission. “Here’s your mushy food,” he says, spooning it into her mouth with surprising patience. If she spits it out, he mutters, “You’re lucky I like you.”

When the baby starts crying, Tim doesn’t panic. He’s used to dealing with chaos. He picks her up, rocks her gently, and says, “What’s the problem, huh? You’ll be alright.” His calm voice works wonders.

Though he’s not as openly playful as TwoBit, Tim has a dry sense of humor. “You got it easy, kid. No bills, no fights, and everyone feeds you. Must be nice.”

The baby grabs his finger at one point, and Tim freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do. When she smiles up at him, he chuckles softly and says, “You’re not so bad, are you?”

Tim approaches diaper changing like it’s a battlefield. “How can something so small make this big of a mess?” he grumbles. He gets it done quickly, though, proving he’s efficient even in unfamiliar territory.

Tim playfully holds her hands and says, “Alright, kid, let’s toughen you up. Gotta be ready for the world.” He pretends to teach her how to punch, lightly bumping her tiny fists against his hand.

When the baby gets sleepy, Tim sits in a rocking chair and holds her against his chest. He hums quietly an old tune his mom used to sing and feels a rare sense of peace.

Cool: Tim acts like babysitting was no big deal, shrugging and saying, “It wasn’t hard.” But his partner notices the way he glances at the baby with a hint of pride.

Later, Tim tells Curly about the experience, saying, “Kids aren’t so bad. She’s tougher than most people I know.” Curly just laughs and teases him for going soft.

Curly Shepard

Curly scoffs and says, “You gotta be kidding me. I don’t do diapers.” But when they gives him a serious look, he rolls his eyes and mutters, “Fine. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”

Curly has no idea what to do when the baby is dropped off. He stares at her like she’s a bomb about to go off. “So… what do you do all day, huh? Cry and drool?”

When the baby reaches for him and giggles, Curly smirks despite himself. “You think I’m funny, huh? Guess you’re smarter than you look.”

Curly’s first instinct is to teach the baby something sneaky, like how to stick her tongue out or make funny noises. When she copies him, he laughs and says, “You’re gonna be a troublemaker, just like me.”

Feeding her is a disaster. Curly doesn’t bother with baby spoons; he tries to feed her straight from the jar. When she spits it out, he shrugs. “Can’t blame ya. This stuff’s gross.”

Curly gets a little too into playing. He pretends to wrestle with her stuffed animals, making exaggerated growling noises, which makes her laugh hysterically. “See? You’ve got good taste in fun.”

When the baby needs a diaper change, Curly freezes. “Oh, no. I am not doing that.” But when he realizes there’s no one else around, he reluctantly handles it, muttering, “This better be the last time.”

When the baby starts crying, Curly panics and says, “What’s wrong now? You were just fine!” He tries bouncing her on his hip, rocking her, and even bribing her with toys. Eventually, he figures out she just wanted her pacifier.

Curly talks to the baby like she’s one of the gang. “Alright, kid, here’s the deal you don’t cry, and I’ll make sure you have a good time.” The baby seems to go along with it, and he grins. “Smart kid.”

Despite his tough exterior, Curly can’t help but melt a little when the baby cuddles up to him. He quietly mutters, “You’re kinda cute, you know that?”

If Tim or another member of the gang stops by and sees him babysitting, they immediately start teasing him. “Look at you, Curly, Mr. Mom!” Curly scowls and says, “Shut up. She likes me better than you, anyway.”

Curly makes up wild stories about being a tough hood, complete with sound effects and dramatic gestures. The baby doesn’t understand a word but claps her hands excitedly.

When the baby starts rubbing her eyes, Curly puts her down in her crib and sits next to her until she falls asleep. “Finally. I thought you’d never quit,” he mutters, though he’s secretly proud he managed to calm her down.

When his partner comes back, they finds Curly sitting on the couch, looking exhausted but smug. “See? I kept her alive,” he says with a smirk.

[margridarnauds]

Something I'm tossing around in my head re: Chat GPT and academia is that...in some ways, I think it's a symptom, rather than the root problem. Not just of the structural ways that mainstream pedagogy + the general structure of academia (particularly in the States) sets some students up to fail, but in the way that a lot of work, even at the graduate and above level, is in itself treated as a product to be cranked out in the least amount of time possible as opposed to a work of dedication and love that requires thought and care and intricate research.

You want to get an undergrad degree? Crank out ~2-3 essays a year. These can be varying degrees of research, because the point is you need to get them in NOW and you need to get them in QUICKLY and you can't take any more time to do them than necessary.

(And for students who are later along in their academic careers, writing 8-10 page papers is nothing, but to that undergrad who's stepped into class for the first time? It might be the most complicated thing they've written.)

You want a PhD? Crank out that dissertation, and don't you DARE take longer than you should. How can you do it? We don't know, our obligation to you is over at five years. Also, you have a semester to come up with a ~25 page prospectus that gives a detailed plan for your dissertation before you can even begin WRITING it, which you'll have to get approved by your committee, so good luck!

Also, don't forget, while you're doing that, you need to keep submitting articles for publication, which you will, of course, have to format individually according to the style guideline of the journal you're publishing to! Publish or perish, so keep your head above the tide or you'll end up drowning!

And, on top of that, expect to write ~ten page presentations for conferences! Don't worry, you don't need to cite your sources TOO rigorously for this one, but you are going to need to make sure you know what you're talking about, otherwise you might be humiliated in front of the scholars you want to impress! Write, write, write! Create that Powerpoint!

You want academic tenure? Crank out that monograph! And don't forget to do it sooner rather than later while ALSO publishing articles and coming up with teaching plans!

Also, don't forget, with everything that you write, that it should be on something popular! Something in keeping with the latest trends, so you can be on the cutting edge! Wanted to do something else? Why did you enter academia if you wanted to follow your own research ideas?

And the point isn't that I think that Chat GPT is GOOD or that it SHOULD be used to write an entire paper. Frankly, I dummied a dissertation outline on it (note: my uni account...which I still hate that they provided for us...doesn't use it to train data, meaning that the environmental impact is minimal) and it was bland as fuck, factually inaccurate, and dated. I DON'T use it because, beyond the morality or ethics of the situation (which I think are more complicated than a black and white "It's harmless" or "It is an actual technological death cult aiming for world domination"), on a purely pragmatic level, my field is TERRIBLE for it.

RATHER my point is that it's hard to take arguments about the sanctity of human creativity seriously SPECIFICALLY with regards to academia when it's an industry that has systematically pried human creativity out of itself and encouraged creating an unsustainably massive amount of work at once if you want to survive and even though I am going to do everything possible to make sure my students DON'T use it for their assignments as a primary tool...I can kind of get why they would be drawn to it beyond just "they're lazy."

[candlelitvamp]

the dom!junhan agenda is stronger than ever 🙂‍↕️ imagine him giving you an intense orgasm by fingering you before bed cause you’ve had a rough day and he wants you to fall asleep peacefully. he’s laying next to you in the dark, smirking and teasing you how all you need to feel better is getting your pussy fucked 🫠

oh my GODDD this one got me thinking. clearly, since this is way longer than i intended lmao. dinna ur brain is so big but also somehow we share a brain cell i think. as you know i am a HUGE supporter of this agenda soooo….

tags: MDNI; smut; junhanxreader; dom!junhan; fingering; Light degradation; some fluff at the end; no gendered terms/pronouns but reader was afab; severe overuse of commas

“shh, shhhh… just relax, sweetheart” he said, the hand wrapped around your torso coming up to cradle your face, thumb gently stroking your cheek as his fingers continued to move inside you.

it had been a bad day. like, a REALLY bad day. the kind of bad day that made you want to just crawl into bed and hide there. which is exactly what you’d done as soon as you got home. your boyfriend was sympathetic, and although he insisted you get back up to at least eat some dinner and change into pajamas, hyeongjun was happy to let you to to bed early. except, after over an hour, you were still awake; bothered by thoughts of all that had gone wrong that day and the potential consequences you’d have to deal with tomorrow. so you’d come back into the living room and collapsed onto the couch next to (and into) hyeongjun, grumbling about how you couldn’t sleep. at first, he murmured his apologies, petting your hair and trying to think of what to do to help his beloved. then, he turned your face to look at him, a mischievous glint in his quickly darkening eyes. “i have an idea of how to get you to sleep.”

which had led you here, lying on your side with your back to his chest, one of his hands cradling you close while the other was shoved into your pajama bottoms. hyeongjun had wasted little time, wanting to help you sleep as soon as possible (or so he’d said). he’d started by teasing your clit. first over your panties, then under them, middle and ring finger alternating pressure left and right before moving in tight circles. he could’ve done it for hours, spurred on by your soft moans and whimpers, but that wasn’t the point of the moment.

when he’d shifted his fingers downward to tease your hole, he’d been surprised to find you soaking wet already. hyeongjun couldn’t help but chuckle in your ear. “you really fuckin’ love my fingers, don’t you baby?” he said, slipping both in with little resistance. you let out a slightly embarrassed whine at his comment, but it was quickly cut off by a gasp as his fingers curled inside you, searching for your g-spot. “aw come on sweetheart, don’t be like that. i think it’s cute.” he murmured into your ear between kisses against your neck. “besides, it just makes it easier for me to make you feel good. and you know i love doing that.” at that moment, as if to prove his point, he found the spot he’d been searching for, rubbing against it with precision. “there we go, just relax baby. take deep breaths. you work so hard, just let me spoil you a little, alright?”

he continued to move his fingers, crooking them against that most sensitive spot inside you in a way that had you panting heavily and gripping his arm that was around you. your moans began rising in pitch, signaling to your boyfriend that you were quickly approaching your orgasm. “jjun” you whined “i-i can’t, i’m gonna-” “sshhhh it’s okay darling, i know. you’re doing so good, being such a good little slut for me. just relax and breathe through it, i’ve got you.” with that, he shifted his hand so his palm rubbed against your clit as he continued to move, sending you powerfully over the edge. he worked you through it, slowing down as your body settled into aftershocks, and stopping when you whined with over-sensitivity.

hyeongjun pulled his hand out of your bottoms, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. when your breathing finally slowed and you turned to cuddle into his chest, he whispered to you “think you can sleep now?” “yes. definitely.” you replied. he smiled a bit at this, murmuring to you about how “i knew all you needed to feel better and fall asleep was to get your little pussy stuffed.” usually, you would’ve lightly smacked his chest for a teasing comment like that, but in the moment you were too far gone, already being pulled rapidly into sleep. when he was sure you were truly out, breathing slow and body still, he leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “sweet dreams, baby. i love you.”

(a/n: this is my first like. actually written out fic so i hope y’all liked it! pls forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes, english is my first language but i am stupid and this is p much unedited lmao. feel free to send me an ask for more like this 👀 i hope u have a good day/night depending on when you read this 🥰)

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 4: The Shadow to my Flame

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

It was Tuesday before she got her spelled letter from Shadow. A letter that gave her hope and at the same time it worried her deeply.

It pleases me to inform that we have brought over 100 faeries into the Night Court. They all have temporary shelter, food and other resources until we can get them more permanent ones either in Night or any other Court.

The situation in Autumn has worsened in only a couple of hours through the night. Do you know the High Lord’s next moves? We want to try to prevent him from going further.

Remember that your safety is more important than any piece of information.

Shadow

Ashe knew minimal about the situation worsening through the night. But she knew one thing, she could definitely find it out.

She felt almost proud as she read about the fae that had been saved. She felt grateful that Shadow had listened to her. And to show her gratitude, she would give all she had as she tried to find out enough information.

She spent the first few hours of the day just doing her normal tasks. That’s how she had learned most of the information previously. Through gossip. That day, it was unusually quiet, and Ashe felt herself grow more and more frustrated. She needed to get the information. She needed to safe more people. She needed to prove that she could be useful.

That’s how Ashe ended up sneaking up to one of her fellow servants, asking her to switch work for the day. Ashe were supposed to be on cleaning duty, and the servant she asked would be with the Lady. To night was a big dinner, which meant a servant would need to stay by the Lady’s side the entire evening.

“And why would I do that?”

“My arms still hurt from Monday, so I won’t be able to do good enough work.”

It was a lie. It was not true at all. Her arms had stopped hurting almost immediately after she got the cream from the Lady. Ashe didn’t care that she lied. It was for the greater good after all.

Her fellow servant rolled her eyes, but she eventually agreed.

“The slaughter has gone exactly according to plan,” one of the generals said. He spoke with food still in his mouth and Ashe could almost see the disgust her Lady felt.

Ashe stood in her finest uniform a few steps behind the table. She was standing ready to bring the Lady to her room when they finished eating. Other than that, she was supposed to act as if she didn’t exist.

“Good,” the High Lord answers. “Is it time to move to the next step of the plan?”

The discussions had been going on for over an hour and Ashe started to wonder if she wouldn’t get any more information.

As the High Lord spoke, she got new hope. The High Lord speaking usually gave the opposite effect, but it was a first time for everything.

“I say we wait until after the ball. The rest of courts have understood that something is going on. Especially the Night Court has been snooping around.”

Ashe got a little bit nervous at the mention of the Night Court. She hoped that Shadow was okay.

“We should make sure the Night Court spies get caught. I don’t want Illyrian scrum in my court,” the High Lord spoke, and all his generals agreed. “We don’t have time to wait until Monday. I want to set a good example to the other courts. Having a town full of lesser faeries will give off the wrong example.”

“Are you saying you want us to move all soldiers to this city before Saturday?” one of the generals said. Ashe had no idea how he dared to speak against the High Lord.

“I am saying we should move the soldiers to this town, starting tomorrow.”

Ashe then started to freak out.

Soldiers would kill lesser faeries in her town tomorrow. She needed to let Shadow know about this. She needed help. That couldn’t happen.

She thought about how she could fix it when it hit her. Thord. Had he left for a different court? Was he and Samli safe? The worry was so overwhelming that Ashe felt tears trying to leave her eyes. Ashe had to be professional, so she took a few deep breaths and tried to ground herself.

“I think I’ll retire,” the light voice of the Lady sounded for the first time that evening. Ashe had never felt more relief as she moved to the Lady and helped her out of her chair. Both the Lady and Ashe gave a quick bow to the High Lord before they left the room.

They walked in silence.

Ashe opened the door to the Lady’s chambers and the Lady immediately sat down in her chair, ready for her hair to be taken down. Ashe could read thousands of emotions on her face. Heartbreak, sadness, terror.

As Ashe finished taking out the last clip, the door to the Lady’s chambers opened. In walked the High Lord with the most confidante steps.

“Leave.”

Ashe didn’t need to be told twice. She bowed to both of them, a small bow to the Lady and a bigger one to the High Lord before she left the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Maria asked her.

“I completely forgot about it,” Ashe explained in a hurry.

“You know I can’t give you time off with such late notice.”

“I don’t need any time off. I just need the night. Five hours at the most. I will come back for breakfast duty tomorrow morning, I promise.”

Maria looked at her and it was obvious she was thinking a lot. Ashe was ready to beg. She would do anything. Anything.

“Okay,” Maria said and signed Ashe’s approval of leave. “But if you’re not back for breakfast tomorrow, I can’t save you.”

Ashe nodded and gave Maria a big hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Ashe started to make her way out before Maria’s voice stopped her.

“Ashe? I don’t know who you’re planning on spending the night with, but next time, come with a better excuse than “having to feed the pigs”.”

Ashe felt embarrassed, but she didn’t say anything.

She was going to make sure her friend would be okay.

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience – Epilogue (Part 11.1)

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 11th snippet / epilogue, part 1. The fight has been won, feelings have been shared, things are well. All that is left now is for Adar and Celebrimbor to start their future together – and while shadows of the past might still haunt them for a while, they have each other to keep them at bay.

Here be intimacy (making out) that will lead to smut in the next part! This is at least T rated and will move to M rating in the next bit. Please mind the ratings!

I thought I’d give those two not just a few kisses (though they share plenty of those in chapter as well) but a lil more intimacy. As a treat. That is basically all this is. I think I made it pretty fluffy and very heartfelt, so I hope you lovely people will enjoy this as much as the rest of the fic. I originally planned for this to be a one-part final (sexy) farewell but it seems I am incapable of writing this epilogue without some more plot and character moments, and therefore had to split it up into two parts. Once again a big Thank You to @plotdesigner for helping me with some ideas for this one. I was pretty fried by the end of this fic, so thank you for your support! <3)

The immediate aftermath of the fight against Sauron was a blur of activity. Once the uruk and elven fighters had arrived, worried by Mirdania’s and Glûg’s warnings, there had been shouts for healers and then, the beginnings of loud, elated proclamations of the shared victory over the Deceiver.

Celebrimbor had witnessed all this as if through a fog; his body needed a bit of time to realize that the battle was truly over, but when it did, he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. His friends looked much the same way, though Gil-Galad at least tried to hide it.

Adar, a steady presence by the smith's side, also seemed to finally succumb to his own exhaustion. He didn’t outwardly appear tired, but kept his arm around Celebrimbor’s waist and used the position to occassionally lean onto him. The warmth of his body, the safety of his presence, quickly turned Celebrimbor from fatigued to downright sleepy.

Which was why he used the first opportunity that presented itself to take Adar aside and drag him to the smith’s spare bedchamber in the forge tower. He’d decided to have it constructed due to his perchant for getting too immersed in his work to mind the time, and was glad when he found that it had been left completely untouched in his abscence.

The elf pulled Adar alongside him, before he simply collapsed onto the bed, uncaring whether he looked particularly graceful in the process. He beckoned the uruk to join him. "I can tell you are falling asleep on your feet, same as me. I’d like to hold you while I rest. Please?"

Adar had fought himself, albeit briefly, "The uruk-"

"Know that we have won the fight. Your lieutenants are more than capable. They’ll understand," and then Celebrimbor smirked, just a little. "If they aren’t celebrating already."

That seemed to do the trick. Adar laughed, low and warm, then trudged over to the side of the bed. When he made to take off his boots, Celebrimbor scoffed and just tugged him down on top of the covers. "We can have that cleaned tomorrow, or whenever it is we will wake up next," he decided, and then pulled the uruk close.

They ended up in an embrace, with Celebrimbor’s head tucked underneath Adar’s chin and his nose at the uruk's throat, their arms tightly woven around one another’s bodies, legs tangled. Adar soon placed a hand onto Celebrimbor's nape and carded his fingers through the elf's blond-brown locks, a touch that lulled both of them to sleep.

They awoke in much the same position the next morning, to gentle breaths and steady heartbeats, which just went to show at how much they had needed to rest after the last few weeks.

That day, too, was a blur; this time for how busy it was. Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad both had to address Eregion’s citizens and make sure to explain the situation to them, including the presence of the uruk in and around the city. Adar himself rejoined his troops to tell them in detail how the victory of their alliance had been achieved, and from what Celebrimbor had been told by Gurlak later, he’d been held up in the celebrations afterwards.

The uruk were loud in their festivities, the sound of battle songs and large drums drifting over the city walls. Celebrimbor found himself smiling as he heard it, leaning out the window of his private quarters.

He and Adar both knew that the responsibilities towards their people could not be neglected – not even for the sake of the newfound closeness between them. Despite that, the elf was already aching to see his husband again.

Which was why he was quite delighted when, come evening, Adar finally returned to Eregion. Supposedly to give Gil-Galad a report on the uruk army, but judging by the amused expressions on everyone else’s faces, they were quite aware how neither Celebrimbor nor Adar could stop staring at the other. Or how they barely followed the conversation between the rest of the elven leaders.

Eventually, Ereinion had simply rolled his eyes and shooed them off. "We will continue this tomorrow. It is clear you two need the time to discuss other matters first," he stated, but his exasperation came with a fond undertone and was accompanied by a smile.

Celebrimbor flustered, especially since Galadriel also felt emboldened to throw him a knowing smirk, but he ultimately did not object. Adar, too, might have held himself up straight and attempted to affect a scowl, but was quick to incline his head and follow Celebrimbor’s lead when the elf left the other leaders to their talks.

It was already getting late. The smith dreaded the thought of sleeping alone in his own bed after he and Adar had spent so much time together in their tent, sitting and dining and talking, their cots standing close enough to hear one another’s breaths during the night.

"Would you…" he briefly faltered, then swallowed and looked at Adar with a hopeful expression. "Would you stay?"

He hadn’t even intended it to be more than a request for company, for Adar sleep in his bed with him, but, alas-

When they had closed the doors to the elf’s quarters behind them, they had been unable to keep away from each other. It started with them holding each other close once again, and then their lips found themselves pressed together just as easily.

There was no urgency, per se. Celebrimbor felt lighter being close to the uruk, and warmth was spreading through him as they kissed. It was a slow progression from chaste pecks to something deeper when Adar’s tongue asked entrance to the elf’s mouth, which he granted with a small moan and a shiver.

Adar had his hands on Celebrimbor’s hips, while the elf had placed one hand between the uruk’s shoulderblades and moved the other to his cheek, which he cupped in his palm.

The uruk’s scars were rough under the elf’s hand. He stroked curious fingers along the raised tissue, then moved his hand into Adar’s hair. It was as soft as he remembered from their wedding kiss. The smith delighted in finally being able to card his fingers through the strands at his leisure and felt a stab of heat when his husband groaned in obvious delight.

When Adar reached for Celebrimbor’s tunic, the smith readily nodded at Adar's silent question and raised his arms to let the other shed the garment from him. It felt easy as breathing. In the candlelight of his room, the elf watched as Adar took him in, pupils already dilated as his eyes moved across Celebrimbor’s torso. His hand, when he reached out, was gentle as it moved over the elf's arms and chest.

There was a tiny frown on his face when he found the purpling bruises on Celebrimbor’s neck from the day before. The elf let the other take them in, tilted his head to the side as Adar felt around the skin of his throat.

"It’s not as bad as it looks. It’ll be gone in a day or two," the elf reassured his husband. When the other looked at him, Celebrimbor smiled and pressed Adar’s hand to his chest instead, right over his heart. "It’ll heal. I’m alright."

The uruk watched him for a moment. When the smith continued to look at him evenly, and did not flinch under his touch, he nodded and drew Celebrimbor into another deep kiss.

Their embrace felt good to the elf, but it also felt slightly cold now, without his tunic and while the chilled metal of Adar’s breastplate was digging into his chest. He slowly pulled back from the kiss and tugged at the laces that held the chest armor in place, a silent question of his own.

The uruk understood, and made quick work of his armor. Celebrimbor felt greedy as he saw his husband take off his breastplate first, then the chainmail, with practiced and easy movements. He hadn’t often seen the other without his armor before, which made him all the more eager to take in the outline of his muscles, the shape of his body underneath the heavy layers.

He put his hands on top of Adar’s tunic and let them move about, felt the hardness of his upper arms and pecs through the fabric. The elf’s breath came out in a shudder. He had no doubt his own pupils were blown wide by then as well.

Celebrimbor looked at Adar as he moved his hand down to gently tug at the hem of his top, but stopped himself when he saw the expression on his husband’s face. He’d squared his jaw and his eyebrows had furrowed.

"Adar," the smith said, quietly, and waited till the uruk would look at him. "We don’t have to. I only intended to have you sleep in the same bed as me – we can do just that. It would be more than enough."

The uruk had been very delicate when it came to ensuring Celebrimbor’s comfort, after he’d proposed the political marriage to him. And during their wedding. Perhaps this had been as much for Adar’s benefit as his own, or perhaps the uruk had made experiences in the past that made him cautious.

Celebrimbor had absolutely no objection extending the same courtesy to him – he wanted this to feel good for Adar as well. "If you only wish for us to kiss, or even just share a bed to sleep, that is alright. Truly. I do not expect anything from you."

The uruk looked at him with deep fondness, and cupped Celebrimbor’s cheek. "It is not that- at least, not precisely."

He took a deep breath. "You might already have guessed it, but my face isn’t the only part of my body that is scarred. I do not wish to frighten you."

Celebrimbor was stunned speechless for a moment, but then quickly cupped Adar’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. He implored the other with his eyes to believe him as he said, "You could not frighten me. I take you as you are, if you will have me. I wish to learn your body just as it is, whatever it may look like."

Adar still seemed unsure, so Celebrimbor stroked his cheeks and gave him a moment. Finally, the uruk nodded, and then slightly drew back.

Without another word, he lifted up the hand with his gauntlet. Celebrimbor watched him unlace the strings that kept the gauntlet tight on his hand, and then take it off.

He knew what Adar had meant, then.

His hand had been mangled and remade multiple times, it looked like. Patches of the skin were black and hardened, the nails of his fingers short stubs. It seemed he only had limited movement to his fingers as well, which the gauntlet had either mitigated or managed to hide from Celebrimbor’s sight. Scars criss-crossed the uruk's hand, from below his sleeve, over his wrist and up to his fingertips.

Adar’s face had turned expressionless once more, a mask he wore to protect himself. Celebrimbor hated it and wanted to see it gone, so he smoothed a gentle thumb over Adar’s cheek before he reached out to take his newly uncovered hand in both of his own.

Just before touching it, he stopped, and looked at Adar. "Can I touch you here?"

The mask fell away, replaced by a look of appreciation. Adar nodded. "Yes. Of course."

"Thank you," Celebrimbor replied, and then took the hand between his own, gentle as if he were holding something fragile. In a way, he supposed he was.

He moved the pads of his own fingers over the raised, uneven skin, felt it's differences against his own. Truly, great harm had been done to this former elf, and yet compassion and kindness had survived in his heart. He’d managed to turn his pain and rage into protectiveness, even if it had been misguided at times in the past.

How could Celebrimbor revile the signs of that? Or fear them?

Carefully, slowly, he lifted the uruk’s hand to his face. He placed gentle kisses upon it, first onto Adar’s knuckles, then his fingertips. And then, he turned up the palm and pressed it to his lips. He closed Adar’s fingers over his cheek and held the other there with his own hand.

His eyes finally turned back to his husband and watched him from beneath his lashes.

Hoping, willing, the other to understand without words.

Judging by the way Adar drew a deep, sharp breath, and then tilted forward to draw Celebrimbor into an urgent kiss, he had managed.

[optimisticgrey]

"It has always been you"

Chapter 1: You don't have to do this.

I just collected all the tropes I could think off, threw them in a bucket and gave it a good stir.

Here we are.

We'll have a lot of self-loathing and angst, fluff, romance and the complex topic of polyamory explained to our favourite Professor which will add some drama. Of course, there will be smut. In this case, heavy BDSM stuff. You have been warned but I will add chapter notes.

Yes, they will fall in love but I am trying to do this excruciatingly slow.

This is the most cliché trope heavy shit I have written in my life and I love it.

I decided to post it now before I once again fall into the rabbit hole of over editing.

Basically my interpretation of @evverest "in your neighborhood for your darkest times"

Read on AO3

Pairing: Alternate Universe; Named Tav (Celeste), Professor Gale Dekarios

WC: 5331

Summary:

Alternate, modern universe setting: Gale is a college professor, deeply traumatized by his former relationship. Celeste is a marine biologist, running from her own past. They meet at an airport.

Warnings:

Will be added with the chapters

Song recommandation: Architects - Blackhole

Celeste stared at herself in the mirror. Deep bags under eyes told a story of endless travel and far too little sleep. Makeup might have been a good idea, had she packed any before leaving two years ago.

She had always liked her eyes. One blue, one light green. She thought they added a certain distinction to her features, though she’d quickly learned most people preferred symmetry: symmetrical faces, evenly coloured eyes, predictable beauty. Conventional minds. Nothing she had to offer.

Celeste reached behind her back, pulling the massive braid of black hair over her shoulder. She adjusted it gently, retying the hair tie holding it in place and readjusting some of Halsin’s silver pearls she had woven into it before looking at herself again.

Fuck, girl. Ever heard of concealer?

Her expression was as drawn as she felt. The fine scar under her right eye had nearly vanished in the past years and she had come to accept it. Mostly liked it.

A testament to all she had endured. Freckles had begun to gather around the scar, and they shifted slightly when she smiled. At least her clothes were clean. That was something. In hindsight, though, the dark green silk blouse and slim, high-waisted black pants might not have been the wisest of choices. Comfortable enough for a quick flight, sure, but not for hours of delays, long lines, and shuffling between uncomfortable airport chairs. She should have known better. At least she did not wear high heels.

Still, she couldn’t deny that the outfit gave her an edge. Just enough to make her look like she belonged in the first-class lounge Jen had insisted on upgrading her to. She reached for her earrings, untangling one that had locked into another, and took a final look at herself before grabbing the pill bottle on the counter. Her new favourite drug, the one that had gotten her through this assignment, was finished. Tossing the last pill into her mouth, she swallowed it dry, then slipped the empty container into the pocket of her black coat. She would not need more. Eventually, she would have to rely on coffee again but until then, she could finish some work while she waited for the storm to pass.

If her flight hadn’t been delayed, she’d be home by now, wrapped in a blanket. Scratch at her feet or in her lap, her friends buzzing around her in a room filled with laughter, love and familiarity. Instead, the flickering blue light of an airport bathroom illuminated her features. Celeste sighed, threw on her coat and grabbed her bag. Her phone rang just as she exited the bathroom on her way to the lounge.

A smile broke across her face despite the exhaustion.

“Hey, babe,” she answered lightly. “Just called to hear your voice.” Karlach’s laughter roared in her ear. So deep, it sank into her soul and made her longing for home even more. “How are you holding up?” “Checking into the lounge now,” Celeste replied, entering the longue. “I hope the coffee is decent.” “I do hope so, too. Cannot imagine you without decent coffee.” Celeste chuckled as she sat down and gestured the young woman behind the counter to get a coffee by pointing at the menu. The young woman gave her a thumbs up. “Have a safe flight. We’ll keep track and come pick you up,” Karlach added with a gentler tone. “You do not have to,” Celeste quickly objected. “The flight has already been delayed and if my gut is correct, we not taking off tonight. I’ll be staying here for another day. Go to bed, get some sleep.” “Ugh, don’t say that!” “Sorry,” Celeste grinned. “Just make sure to check the flight tracker before you leave. There is no need for us to be stuck at different airports.” “Will do, smarty pants.” “Thanks, Kalla.” “Anytime, Kell. We are all pumped to have you home soon.” Celeste hung up, moving her thumb over the display. The last picture they had taken before she fled her life was set as her wallpaper. They were all smiling so happy, her heart ached.

How on earth did she ever got so lucky? In the friendship department, she was living the dream. Close, intimate bonds with people she trusted with her life, thoughts, feelings and broken heart – or call in the middle of the night because she was alone and tired at an airport on the other side of the world and needed to be comforted. To her surprise, their friendships had only deepened in her absence. Celeste had not expected them to abandon her but she had loved their enthusiasm to include her in their lives as much as possible: frequent video calls, dedicated servers to share information and video logs of their day-to-day life. She missed them so deeply, but they had made sure she knew she was loved and still part of their lives.

She could not wait to go home and hug them all, one by one.

Celeste had not been as lucky when it came to romantic love, though. Her divorce had been finalized eight days ago. She had never thought she’d see the day to be free of this marriage. The aftermath of it all would be messier but that was a problem for the upcoming weeks and nothing she was willing to put any energy into today. For now, she’d stay with Halsin and Soren before returning to work and beginning the dreaded process of house hunting. Just thinking about it made her groan internally.

“Your coffee, miss,” the nice bartender said, moving the coffee cup over the counter. “Thank you,” Celeste smiled. She had passed the age barrier to be called “Miss” some time ago, but was no longer wearing a wedding ring.

Picking up cup and saucer, her gaze darted around the room. The longue was filled with important people – or at least people who considered themselves to be important -, mostly men dressed in suits, deep in thought hovering over laptops and newspapers. Her flight was not the only one that had been delayed. Basically, everyone was stuck here for as long as she had and people were annoyed. Thankfully, as the hour grew late, people started to quiet down or take their discussions and heated calls outside. She looked around and was able to make out one empty seat at a table.

A man occupied the other chair. Dark hair, streaked subtly with grey, was tied halfback. Semi-circular black glasses, well-groomed beard. A dark purple shirt, rolled up to the elbows, displaying well-defined arms. He had tossed his blazer over the back of the chair, pondering over a chessboard. Celeste walked over and politely cleared her throat. Again. And again. And again.

“Pardon,” she then said as friendly as she could manage. “May I sit here?” The man jolted, clearly startled. His dark brown eyes darted around, unfocused for a moment, before settling on her. He blinked, staring at her in silence before straightening and clearing his throat. She recognized the look. He had been deep in thought, far removed from the bustling lounge around him. Up close, he was even more striking. There were faint lines around his eyes, and the tiredness in them mirrored her own. His gaze, the rich brown of her favourite chocolate, flickered with the weight of a long day. And yet, he was sitting here, playing chess with himself. Come one. Behave.

“Apologies,” he murmured. “I was lost in thought. Please, sit down.” He gestured to the chair across from him and began gathering the chess pieces, his long, elegant fingers moving with practiced ease as he cleared the board. She was certain he played an instrument or worked a job that required finesse with fingers this well manicured. Celeste set her coffee down and took the seat. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, his movements slowed. “Do you play?” “I do, yes. Would you like a game?” “I’d love to.” His smile was surprisingly warm. Celeste defeated him in the first two games, though he claimed victory in the third. It were close matches, not rushed but well thought out. Each game was a dance of precision and patience, neither rushed nor careless. Like wolves circling prey, they assessed every move, rethinking strategies before committing to the board. The competition was sharp, yet devoid of hostility. More of a shared challenge they both relished. Celeste loved every second of it. He laughed appreciatively at some of her moves, and she could tell he was enjoying himself. As she did him and his laughter. He was a brilliant tactician and Celeste found herself forcing her focus to keep up with his strategies more than once. The only problem was, he was even more beautiful when he was lost in thought, threading his fingers through his hair, a small crease building between his eyebrows. He had a way of moving his fingers through the beard stubble on his cheek when he was pondering the next move that she found utterly charming. Their silence was companionable. She felt seated with an old friend rather than a stranger. Approving nods, playful smirks, and the occasional taunting glance punctuated the quiet, with soft giggles breaking through every now and then.

It was the perfect reprieve. For the first time since Celeste left Greenland nineteen hours earlier, she felt herself relax.

“Would you like another coffee?” He asked after the third game. Celeste nodded, stretching as the hours of travel and sitting began to weigh heavily on her body. “Yes. And some water, please,” she answered, rummaging in her coat looking for her wallet. “As you wish,” was all he mumbled and stood up. Celeste found her wallet and wanted to offer cash, but he had already walked to the counter. Her gaze followed him. He was surprisingly well built. With his graceful gestures, the way his hands moved the pieces with practiced ease, she had expected him to be less toned. To avert he gaze and calm her jumping ovaries, she checked her phone.

Everyone on their message group was wishing her a save and soon flight home. She marked every single message with a heart and thanked them for their support, while quickly highlighting the fact that her flight was still delayed.

“Scratch and I can’t wait!” Jen answered. It made Celeste smile. “Good news?” His voice pulled her from her thoughts, she flinched. “I apologize,” he said, his voice a little too gentle as he set a tray onto the table. Two black coffees and a water were put around the chess board while they moved their used cups onto the tray. “I did not mean to pry.” He took the tray back to the bar before he said down. “You were not prying; I was lost in thoughts.” She moved the money over the table before taking the water. He raised an eyebrow, moving the money back with the same gesture – index and middle finger pressed onto the note -, looking as if she had deeply offended him. Celeste gulped down the glass of water and was laughing, when she finished.

“Thank you,” she said, storing the money in her pocket. “It’s the least I can do. You are an excellent chess player and deeply appreciated company.” “I appreciate the compliment,” she answered warmly and he smiled. Even his smile was gorgeous. Get a grip, Celeste. “So, what brings an accomplished chess player like yourself to an airport at the edge of the world in the dead of night, if you don’t mind me asking?” He asked, moving his gaze back to the board. “I just ended a two year assignment-“ “You are military?” “I am not. I am a marine biologist and my university sent me to set up a permanent research station in Greenland. It is a cooperative project of different universities and NGOs across the globe, so…..” Her voice trailed off; she had troubling finding the right words. “An administrative nightmare,” he offered. Celeste’s eyebrow rose. “Correct, yes. You work in research?” “Thankfully that is no longer the case,” he smiled, reaching for the coffee. “But I did, a long time ago.” “How long ago might that have been? You are what? 32?” To her delight, his cheeks flushed briefly as he drank, his thumb and middle finger layered over the rim of the cup. “Quite charming, thank you. I will turn 40 at the end of the year.” “If it makes you feel more comfortable, it does not show.” He laughed warmly, making her smile. “Thank you, you are very kind.” They sat in silence for a moment, Celeste pondering the idea of asking him everything that came to her tired mind. There was no feeling of unease or restriction. It felt as if she could talk about everything with him. Instead of talking and losing herself in inappropriate questions, she chose coffee. “What is the research on?” “Pardon?” “The station you have established. What is its purpose, exactly?” “Ocean acidification and ecosystem response. Carbon absorption, effects on calcifying organism, food web distributions, these kinds of things. How climate change effects the sea level is a well-known, well researched fact. We are observing the effects it has on food chains. There are 25 researchers permanently stationed in the middle of nowhere and they will remain for at least two more years. I will supervise from home.” “A long-term commitment, indeed. I’ve never been part of such research teams myself, but it’s undeniably a noble cause. One that demands dedication and a shared vision.” “Depends on who you ask or beg for money,” she grinned and he chuckled. “What is your area of expertise?” “I am mathematician.” “A wizard,” she nodded approvingly and joined his surprised laughter before she could stop herself. “A wizard? Well, that’s a new one! I’ve been called many things in my life, but wizard was never among them.” He smiled, somewhat pleased. “One if my friends is impacted by severe dyscalculia. She considers any person who can handle abstract numbers or more than basic algebra a wizard,” Celeste chuckled into her coffee and took a sip. “I apologize.” “There is no need to, it’s a title I will wear most appreciative,” he grinned. ”Following this line of argument, I might be considered an Archwizard. You are returning home?” Celeste gestured around the longue. “As most people, I got stuck here when the storm hit. But yes,” she sighed, rubbing her cheek, “I cannot wait to get home. Sleep in a real bed that’s not a bunk bed. Have a bath with my favourite music blaring as loud as I wish. Hug my friends.” She rolled her eyes longingly. “Maybe eat food that has not been dehydrated before. You know, vegetables that actually crunch when you bite down?” Her voice trailed off again as she thought of all the things she was looking forward to before she realized he was staring at her. His arms rested on the table folded, his gaze intrigued yet somewhat gentle. As if she was a piece of art he was trying to understand. A puzzle to solve.

Flattering.

“What about you?” She asked into the stretching silence, and he flinched. Celeste regretted her words immediately. The same kind eyes that had just darted into hers now seemed somewhat fearful. She had unknowingly touched one of the most intimate topics possible. “I apologize,” she added gently but he waved it off. He let his gaze move through the room though. “I am returning home as well. I took a sabbatical after… well, let’s just say it was long overdue.” He took deep breath as if to summon the courage to look at her. As his eyes found hers again, she was certain he was assessing the level of trust he was willing to show. “My former partner left me some time ago,” he added quietly. There was gentle timbre in his voice. “I buried myself in work afterward, but it did little to improve my state of mind. It was an intense relationship—deeply so—but in hindsight, perhaps not the healthiest. I loved her profoundly, and her departure hit me harder than I’m comfortable admitting. So, I chose to do something I’d long denied myself: travel. See the world. Try to rediscover who I am outside of what I’d known.” “I am sorry this happened to you,” Celeste answered and the weak smile on his lips was genuine. She lifted her hand, displaying the line her wedding ring had left. “I understand,” she simply stated.

They both reached for their coffee cups and shared a weak smile over the rim. “How did you become such a competent chess player?” Celeste appreciated the change in topic though she suddenly missed the sincere underline of his voice. She checked her watch and reached her coat pocket to find the pill bottle empty. With a look of disbelief and shock, she stared at the bottle.

“Fuck.”

She did not need the pills that had been stored in the bottle, but she wanted one. There was no physical component to her blooming addiction, she was aware. It was not how this particular amino acid analogue worked. But she could feel exhaustion creeping into the back of her mind, slowly numbing her senses. Celeste wanted to stay awake, to be able to soak him in, attentively listen to every word he was saying, every little detail he was willing to share. She could not get tired now.

In her head, she recounted the last ones she took. She had a backup bottle, but it was in her suitcase that had already been checked. He wanted to ask but did not, she could sense it. Celeste closed her eyes and rubbed her hand over her face. “Okay, great,” she then stated, opening her eyes and slipping the bottle back. “My father thought it important for his children to be reliable tacticians,” she explained, picking up the talk where she had left it. “Chess was one of the things I was taught from a very young age. I will boldly assume you were a prodigy.” He did not even try to hide his surprise. “That is surprisingly accurate, yes. How did you know?” Celeste grinned. “There are two types of mathematicians I have met in my life and - please don’t take this the wrong way - the slightly neurodivergent kind who just have a deep understanding of math and logic in general make up for the larger part.” “And the other kind?” he smirked. “There is no other kind,” she admitted and he burst into laughter. His laugh was so warm, she felt goosebumps blooming on her arms. If she could have one sound for the rest of her life, it would be this laughter. Deep, honest, unrestrained.

Jesus fucking Christ, Celeste, get a grip.

It took him a moment to calm down. “Again, surprisingly astute, yes,” he replied with a slight smirk. “I was considered a child prodigy and have claimed many notable titles in my life. But I must admit, the thrill of a chess game never quite fades, no matter how many victories I rack up.” “No Nobel prize yet?” she teased. “There is still time.” While she set up the chess board again, he rose. “Would you like more coffee?” “You do not have to do this.” “Allow me to be a gentleman,” he mimicked a bow. Celeste sighed and suppressed a charmed grin. “Yes, please. And anything sweet, if something is left. “ They played so many matches, Celeste stopped to count. And to care. Losing against him was surprisingly easy. Not that she lost often, it was quite a close tie after all. He continued to compliment her moves and offered insights to the strategies he preferred, never condescending. She could tell he had been called that in his life, as often as he was checking in with her, asking if his insights would be appreciated. His fingers did not stop to intrigue her. The obviously experienced moves with which he touched and moved the pieces on the board and off. The conversation flowed freely now, as did the coffee. Celeste could feel the tension leaving her. Somehow, he had seemed to decide she was worth the trust. Or risk.

Don’t flatter yourself. You look halfdead.

The trust, it seemed, allowed him to open up, he talked about himself. He had travelled the world, never stood long in one place while co-authoring a paper here and there. Not because he needed to, he tried to gently move around the topic, but it became obvious quickly. Sitting across from him in a restricted first class longue had made it quite obvious but she decided not to talk finances. He enjoyed reading, fine dry wine and had a cat he deeply missed that was currently staying with his mother until he started teaching again next semester. He had made a meticulously planned timeline to return home and look for houses. Time to settle in for himself and his cat and set up his library again.

A library. Of course.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Celeste, this is an airport flirt, nothing more. He might go back to Belfast or wherever he is from and forget about you the second you turn around.

Still, she was unable to take her eyes off him. In her defence, she had spent the last 919 days with the same 25 people who she now knew more intimately than she wanted to. They had had sex on occasion, as it was common on such missions, but it had never been about romance. Just pent-up energy, a bodily need to be fulfilled. Some of her coworkers had partners at home, even spouses they were looking forward to seeing again. Despite her own history – and Celeste had to admit to herself she needed some work there – she never understood the appeal of leaving one’s love behind to follow her own ambitions. If a man like this, like him – intelligent, charming, well-read and breathtakingly beautiful – would be her partner, she would not want spent a day apart from him. She gulped at the realisation, shoving the implications down and took another sip of coffee.

Celeste phone rang. Jenevelle. “Hey.” “Hey,” Jen started before words started to spill out of her in mind-bending speed. “Youarestrandedsoilookedaroundandguesswhattherewasonehotelroomleftthatitheincrediblefriendthat-“ “Jen, Jen! Slow down, please. What is happening?” “All flight are delayed for the next 12 hours,” she sighed, clearly annoyed she need to repeat herself. Celeste chuckled despite the news. “The snow will only be getting worse. You are not going anywhere, so you might as well get cozy.” Celeste smiled warmly. It felt good to be known. “What did you do?” “I secured the last hotel room for you. It costs about what I imagine an organ on the black-market costs, and you can repay me later but I will graciously accept some praise now. Everything else is completely overbooked. The airlines were surprisingly fast, so you have to hurry.” “You are aware you are not my personal assistant, right?” Celeste blinked warmly as he set down the coffee in front of her and dropped back into the seat. “I know! But I cannot wait to have you home have been reloading that damn flight tracker every five seconds!” “I love you, too,” she smiled, noticing the man flinching slightly. “Wait…What are you doing? You sound far too relaxed.” “I am playing chess,” she grinned and their eyes met. He looked at her puzzled. “But I promise to go check in after the next match.” “You need to leave now, I ordered you a cab. They will not keep the reservation for longer than an hour. It is a fucking suite after all.” Celeste rolled her eyes. She was afraid what might happen when she left. Or wouldn’t happen. “Okay, I will leave now. Thank you.” She slipped the phone back into her pocket. He tried not to ask but his curiosity was palpable.

Continue on AO3 (I apologize, Tumblr fucked up the formatting)